


rain, meteorites, and autumn leaves

by lightningmcqveer



Category: haikyuu
Genre: Heavy Angst, It Gets Worse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:00:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25192816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightningmcqveer/pseuds/lightningmcqveer
Summary: who needs memories, huh.atsumu does, they're all he has now.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 91





	rain, meteorites, and autumn leaves

**Author's Note:**

> a character goes through a panic attack at the last part of the story, avoid it if it triggers you please !!

"are you out of your fucking mind, atsumu?"

atsumu, it's always atsumu. sakusa never calls him miya.

atsumu sometimes wonders how kiyoomi would sound on his lips before shaking his head. bokuto's romcoms have left too big of an impact on him, it seems.

a cough breaks him out of his thoughts. right.

"i'm being serious here," atsumu wags his eyebrows, "how many times would you get the chance to go to the funfair with me?"

sakusa stares at him.

"oh, come on! you pretended to be shoyo's boyfriend at that family gathering of his, why not help me?"

"he begged me! and you're not in need of serious help, you just want to go there to annoy osamu!"

atsumu, honestly, does want to do that. messing with his twin is one of his favourite things to do, maybe his first priority.

but he has something better to do now, he thinks.

"please, omi omi."

sakusa sighs, "no."

"i'll tell you who broke your cup on karaoke night."

"okay."

sakusa looks more tired than usual. atsumu decides he'll drop it after one last attempt.

"i'll buy you osamu's oni–"

wait. atsumu stares at him, opening his mouth to make sure he had heard correctly but sakusa beats him to it.

"i said okay. don't make me change my mind."

"just like that? wait, no, don't answer that. you're a godsend, omi."  
  
  
  


* * *

they make it into one hour of playing the dumbest fucking games, which is far more than atsumu expected, but he knows better than to ask about it.

"what are you planning?"

he turns to meet sakusa's steely gaze.

"why do you think i'm always planning something?" he fakes offense, hand poised over his heart.

"you asked me to come with you specifically to annoy osamu. it's been an hour and you're," he gestures vaguely, "trying to win an ugly bear."

"oh, omi, if i didn't know any better i would almost say you're using my brother as an excuse because you're too afraid to go against me."

"well, atsumu," sakusa copies his haughty tone, "maybe i just know which brother isn't a pain in the ass."

"well, a _good_ pain in the ass."

and then he's walking to pick the gun up, disgusted look changing to a smirk as he turns to look back at atsumu, fringe moving in the wind to show his forehead, and holy shit, atsumu is gay and panicking and he's gay panicking and he's a gay who's panicking and gay p—

( cut for length )

they make it to osamu's stall with atsumu's dignity still somewhat intact.

they stand there for five minutes before he realises how big of a disaster this was because osamu, his twin, lovely brother, absolute asshole, knows.

osamu knows everything about him, from his crush on a girl back in school to force heterosexuality to the nights they had spent trying to figure everything out and unfortunately for him, the current biggest nuisance in his life: his romantic, complicated feelings for sakusa kiyoomi.

osamu calls it a crush. atsumu would beg to differ, he's not in highschool. grown professional volleyball players do not have crushes.

( he's proven wrong about that every time he sees bokuto around akaashi, who despite being boyfriends are so clumsy with each other it makes atsumu want to bawl. )

the point is: osamu knows about his "crush", sakusa. sakusa, who is currently right there, blissfully unaware of the way osamu is slyly sending atsumu looks.

he hates it here. he truly does hate it here, hates everything. including sakusa fucking kiyoomi and his stupid fucking moles. especially his brother and his dumb cap.

atsumu drags them away as soon as osamu is done with their onigiris.

sakusa turns to face him, gazing intently.

"what?"

they're standing too close, sakusa's shoulder brushing his so he's far from the crowd.

"that seemed more of your brother annoying you."

atsumu shrugs, trying to hide his burning face. "i'll get him later."

"spill now," he demands, "who are you and what have you done with atsumu?"

"are you concerned about me, omi?" he gasps, fake delight spreading over his face. "ah, i knew you'd come around someday."

he hears the muffled huff and in an instant, atsumu snaps his head up just in time for him to see sakusa covering his face with his hand, trying to conceal the growing smile, getting a smudge of rice above his lip.

( you shouldn't cover it up, he thinks. you're beautiful, i want to make you laugh everyday. let me, please let me. allow me this, just this. i can be content with that, with whatever small wonders you let me have. )

"where do we go now?"

he doesn't ask to go home, atsumu notices.

"i don't know, do you want to battle over the ugly bear ownership?"

sakusa sighs. "i know you've already thought of something, atsumu."

truthfully, he has. it's a nice, clean cafe with some of the best cold coffee he's ever had. atsumu knows for sure they sanitize their tables, has seen them doing so for five years now, so that's a plus too.

so yes. atsumu has a plan. a well thought plan, mixing both his and sakusa's interests. nothing could possibly go wrong.

.. right?

no, of course not. perhaps atsumu is unlucky, or more realistically, his love life cursed by a witch eons ago, because it starts pouring over their heads like there's no tomorrow, pelts of rain leaving them soaked to the bone, dark shirts clinging to their skin.

there's no way they're making it to that cafe, he thinks, but the date doesn't have to be ruined just yet. not when atsumu has waited for this for months, not when sakusa genuinely looked thrilled when he got sprayed in the face with water, not when this has been perfect.

atsumu can't let it end like this.

he grins widely at sakusa, "do you want to have some fun?"

and the man, drenched, bewildered, beautiful, looks at him with narrowed eyes, hisses a no, but accepts atsumu's outstretched hand anyway.

atsumu grabs it softly, but firm enough to not let go.

a distant part of him tells him to never let go, to memorize the carouses of sakusa's hand, map them on his mind like they're his own.

he discards those thoughts like every other he's too scared to face, and runs.

sakusa stumbles behind him from the force but catches himself on atsumu's back.

it's meant to be stupid; two friends, running through the rain, hand in hand, laughter echoing loudly in their ears, dashing throughthe streets like they don't have anything to worry about, even if atsumu has to pull sakusa's weight less than halfway through after he gives up.

but it's exhilarating, it's tiring, and it's easily one of the best memories atsumu knows he could ever have.

but like everything good in his life, it's going to end soon. so he tightens his grip, meets sakusa's eyes with his own matching happiness, and vows to never forget.

he's too high from the run to feel disappointed when they eventually come to a stop, entering the building with dripping clothes.

it's all good until sakusa goes into a sneeze fest, one after another.

atsumu scrambles for the extra tissues he had in his pocket, mumbling apologies til a hand grabs his wrist.

he looks up.

"it's okay," sakusa tells him, damp tissue already over his red nose, looking completely out of it.

he scrambles for words. it terrifies him sometimes, being so hopeless when it comes to one person, feeling awkward.

"still. sorry. did you have fun?"

atsumu's expecting the normal, snarky, sakusa-type response.

but sakusa stares at him weirdly, like something's shining in his eyes, "yeah, atsumu." he clears his throat but his voice is still undeniably soft. "i had fun."

atsumu offers him a weak smile, weak like his heart which is going crazy, weak like his knees which seem like jelly.

probably because of the running, he determines.

"does that mean you'll do it again?"

"absolutely not. get out of here. i don't want to see your face ever."  
  
  


* * *

"he's dying?"

shoyo looks heartbroken.

that doesn't stop atsumu.

"hinata shoyo," he growls, grabbing his shoulders roughly, too roughly, and atsumu twinges in regret internally.

but right now is not the time.

"for fuck's sake, shoyo, say something! tell me what i heard was wrong, tell me i have hearing problems!"

but shoyo doesn't say a word, just looks at him emptily.

".. don't tell me he's dying, please. i can't.. i can't—"

then shoyo breaks and they're crashing together in a hug, shoyo crying soft apologies in atsumu's hair.

"it was his right to tell.. he made me promise. i'm sorry, i'm so sorry."

atsumu knows it's not the man's fault, knows he shouldn't let him feel like that either.

but he has no comfort to offer, no sympathy. only a weird sensation going all over his body, leaving him cold and numb.

"there was no family function, was there?"

shoyo's little, pained 'no' is enough for atsumu to shut up.  
  


* * *

the secret comes out soon when sakusa collapses during practice, body making a horrific thump as he kneeled on the ground, clutching his chest.

bokuto and tomas take him to the doctor, ignoring sakusa's insistence on being fine.

atsumu can only watch, arms dangling by his side, no longer able to hide himself from the truth.

he never had felt useless in his life, but the the feeling that had him frozen, eyes fixed on the spot sakusa had fell, felt very much like it.

it's news, of course. there are articles about msby's famous player and his condition so there's no wonder osamu breaks into his apartment two days later.

"i'm in love with him, 'samu."

his twin offers him a brief, sad look. it's suffocating, too much for atsumu. he buries his face in the couch, hoping against all hope for solitude.

"i know."

"that's all yer going to say about it?" the familiarity of his home, his brother's presence causes his accent to slip out.

osamu sighs. there's some shuffling behind him before a weight settles on his back, knocking out his breath.

"listen to me, 'tsumu. there's no point in moping and hiding in your apartment."

he groans, covering his face with his hands before they're pried away.

"sakusa... is a good person. and you're in love with him, have been ever since he joined the team. no, don't argue. your crush has been there for even longer."

oh, the mortifying ordeal of being known.

"so what are you going to do about it, 'tsumu? gonna keep it to yourself for the rest of your life? gonna let him die without ever telling him that?"

it hits home, too close, enough to sting, for atsumu to push his twin off him.

"and that's going to make it easier, letting him go?" he snarls, too annoyed by osamu sitting coolly on his sofa. "what's the point in telling him that?"

"he's still alive, atsumu!"

silence stretches between them, both brothers glaring at each other, hands curled into fists.

".. he's still alive. he's not gone. why are you acting like he's already dead?"

he doesn't say a word as osamu passes him, stopping at the door only to say, "he's in love with you too."  
  
  


* * *

atsumu raises his hand to knock, lets it fall to his side, repeats it three time more.

desperate to occupy them, he runs his fingers through his hair, messing the style he had spent minutes trying to perfect in front of the mirror.

come on, he had practiced that. he had this. he was miya atsumu, best setter, way better than all those other setters, he could do it.

he had only looked up at the door, halfway to rapping his knuckles when it opened, a disheveled sakusa glaring at him with red eyes and his fist, stuck in mid air.

"were you ever going to even do it?" he demands, stepping back presumably to give him space to come in.

thing is, atsumu isn't professional star setter atsumu miya with sakusa. he's atsumu, just atsumu, with his nerves of anxiety and confusion.

so he chooses to forget the long confession he had wrote, extends his hand, and blurts out, "do you want to have fun?"

when sakusa's cute scrunchy nose expression appears, atsumu knows he's made the right choice, even if he has no idea what he's doing. 

  
  
  


* * *

"i'm not sitting on that."

"don't be pissy, it's clean!"

sakusa pins him with his unimpressed stare.

"omi, i swear," he sighs, "it's clean. i washed it twice."

with not much arguing, they settle on the blanket, side by side, eyes focused on the stars only when they avert them from each other.

"hey," sakusa breaks first, "who broke my mug?"  
  
atsumu laughs, loud and clear.

"it was me." he admits, "i was drunk and that gross, yellow thing was a strain on my eyes."

he hears sakusa stifle his chuckles so he continues, "so i decked it. mind you, i just meant to move it. i didn't realise it would break."

"you didn't realise it would break if you threw it to the floor?"

"i was drunk!"

sakusa laughs openly now, frizzy hair moving freely in the summer air. he has deep eyebags, his face has paled, he looks weak.

and atsumu's in love with him.

atsumu's breath catches. sakusa looks at him in that strange way again.

fondly, atsumu realizes. he had never thought he'd ever use that word.

"is— is that a shooting star?"

no, you're the star, he thinks.

wait.

huh.

he snaps his gaze to the sky and.. there really is a shooting star.

they watch in quiet amazement, its burning colours vivid in contrast of the deep dark skyline.

it's gone in a snap. a distant memory now.

"did you wish for something?" atsumu asks.

sakusa smiles wryly. "you could say that. did you?"

"yeah."

he drags his stare back to the sky. there's no sign that the shooting star was even there.

but it was. atsumu saw it, sakusa saw it. it was real. that's all that matters for him.

"yeah. i wished for something, omi."

there's a slight rustle as his partner moves closer, shivering slightly.

atsumu grabs the other blanket quickly, covering the dark haired man with it.

it's muttered so lightly that there's no way he would have heard that if they weren't cuddling, holding each other tightly, afraid to let go.

"kiyoomi."

atsumu repeats it.

kiyoomi. kiyoomi. kiyoomi.

full of tenderness. that's how he says kiyoomi, like something precious and beautiful and beloved.

loved.

they're on the tip of his tongue. but like every thought of his, every thought he should have told kiyoomi, he leaves the words unspoken.  
  
  


* * *

sakusa kiyoomi dies on a thursday, well into early fall.

atsumu is present in his last moments. he holds kiyoomi's hands as he tells atsumu he loves him.

atsumu never gets to say it back.

they're at his funeral now. sakusa had no close family except for komori, who's standing straight, meeting with everyone despite his own weary frame.

shoyo and osamu never once leave his side. he would have snapped at them.. but atsumu is exhausted, knows they're doing it out of pure concern.

he tries to keep his tears in for the ceremony. there's probably media around. he keeps his trembling at a minimum, but it all goes to shitwhen he sees the matching silver bands on bokuto and akaashi's fingers.

there's a stabbing pain in his gut and he can't breath, atsumu can't fucking breath, there are arms around him, holding him together, not letting him fall apart.

let me go, he sobs. please let me sink six feet down with him. i want to be with him. my kiyoomi. my omi.

his back rests against something sturdy, hands rubbing his arms to help him. people are talking but that's all light buzz in his ears.

is that his name? the voices seems so familiar too.

he's dizzy but focuses anyway, the bleary sight of shoyo's worried face fading away into something grateful.

"— ming back, osamu."

osamu? he turns his head sharply, instanly regretting it, head feeling like lead, trying to find his brother.

'samu. where's 'samu?

"'samu, yer.."

"i'm here, 'tsumu. focus on me. i'm right here. breathe with me."

atsumu does it, steadily coming back, chest still heaving. "what.. what happened?"

"you had a panic attack." shoyo says.

atsumu's only ever had one back when he was fifteen. he examines his hands, controlled setter hands, shaking. he closes them. they don't stop trembling.

"is it over?"

"yeah."

he's resting against a tree, he notices.

atsumu gets up, ignoring osamu's hand which comes up to support him.

he walks over to the grave agonizingly slow.

"i get the ugly bear ownership now," he chokes out, "and.. i guess we should have blowed on some dandelions too. maybe then our wishes would have come true."

"we wanted the same thing, didn't we? more time together. i wanted a forever with you." his mind flashes back to matching rings, a vile feeling all over his mouth.

"i'm in love with you too, kiyoomi. i wish i hadn't been a coward. i wish i could have fucking said it. you deserved that much."

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry," he begs for mercy, falling to his knees, "i'm so sorry, baby."

there are footsteps behind him.

he glances at the tombstone, sight falling to the red orange leaves before it.

red like the blood from kiyoomi's mouth, red like his highschool banner.

who needs memories?

he does. atsumu does.

that's all he has left now.

fleeting memories he's already started to forget. distant memories he'll try to hold on stubbornly, never admitting that they're slipping out of his desperate grasp. 

there are hands on his shoulders, soothing him as he sobs his heart out.

but nothing can ever stop him from being red now too.


End file.
